


The Return of Negaduck

by Spiderlass



Series: Tales From Duckburg! [9]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 2018), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017), PKNA - Paperinik New Adventures
Genre: ADHD Character, Android!Uno/One, Autistic Character, Dawn of Justice... Ducks!, Established Relationship, M/M, Slight Violence, Trans Male Character, above the level the show would go to anyway, adhd Gosalyn, autistic Drake, autistic/adhd Launchpad, past relationship, trans male drake, yes I made that joke already shush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-09 08:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20991527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiderlass/pseuds/Spiderlass
Summary: Duckberg's three resident superheroes learn the hard way never to underestimate a washed-up actor who's got nothing left to lose.





	1. Lives on the Line, Winner Takes All

**Author's Note:**

> Warning! This chapter contains a brief instance of gun violence. Please be careful!

Drake hummed as he walked into the house, shifting the bag of groceries to his hip.

“I’m home!”

Launchpad poked his head out from the living room, quickly walking over to him.

“Hey, honey! How, uh, how was the grocery store?”

“Er, fine,” Drake said as Launchpad took the bag from him. “I can carry those, you know-!”

“No, no, it’s- it’s fine! In fact, why don’t you just, just go get the next one, and I’ll carry them over to the kitchen.”

“... or we could just both do that? It’d be faster.”

“Well, yeah, but, uh, I- I wouldn’t want you to have to carry a bunch of heavy groceries all the way from the car!”

“It’s... not that far, and I might not be able to bench as much as you, but I’m not exactly a wimp, big guy.” Drake arched an eyebrow. “Is there something in the living room you don’t want me to see?”

Launchpad cringed almost imperceptibly, chuckling nervously.

“What? No, of course not! Why would I-?”

_ “Bee Mode!” _

A cheer came from the living room, and Drake’s eyebrow arched even higher.

“What, is it because Gos is watching Slapdown? It’s fine, we agreed that she could watch wrestling once her homework was all done.”

Launchpad hesitated, then opened his mouth just as Flight of the Valkyries started playing.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“Um, why are you doing that with your arms?”

“Because it’s the American Dragon, duh!”

Drake blinked, then narrowed his eyes and gave his boyfriend a look. 

“Ah-heh... sorry.”

Drake sighed, then walked over to the living room, putting his hands on his hips.

“Hello, Gosalyn.”

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hello, children who do not live in my house.”

“Hi, Mr. Mallard!” Boyd, Violet, and Lena chorused.

“Gosalyn, what did your father and I say about having friends over on a school night?”

“That I needed to ask first. But I did! I asked Pops and he said yes.”

“Wh-  _ Launchpad!” _

“She gave me the big pleading eyes!” Launchpad argued. “You know I can’t say no to those!”

Drake rolled his eyes, then folded his arms across his chest.

“Okay, well, don’t all of you have homework to do?”

“Did it already,” Gosalyn replied.

“Well... don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Teacher learning day,” Violet told him.

“... alright, fine, you can stay.”

“Thank you!” All four children said as two ducks in blue t-shirts got into the ring. Just as the male, brown-haired duck with a somewhat scraggly beard was about to begin talking though, static appeared on the screen, the sound and image cutting out.

“What the  _ heck?!”  _ Gosalyn shouted. “Come  _ on,  _ you can’t just cut out when the American Dragon is about to cut a promo! No fair!”

“Uh, you paid the cable bill, right?” Launchpad asked.

“Pretty sure I did. Maybe it’s something with the connection-?”

Just as Drake said that, the static suddenly cleared, footage of what appeared to be St. Canard at night playing over the screen as a generic, trumpet-heavy theme tune played.

“What the...?”

_ “L... ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages!”  _ A somewhat terrified-sounding announcer started.  _ “It- it is my great pleasure to p-present the, the Negaduck Show!” _

“Negaduck?”

_ “With- with special guests, um, Michael Bill, Stork Angel, and- and Dan Castellaneighta!” _

Drake blinked, then frowned.

“Wait a minute... aren’t- aren’t those the actors that played Quackerjack, the Liquidator, and Megavolt?”

_ “Now here’s your- your host, the one, the only... Jiiiiiiiiiim Starling!” _

Drake’s eyes went wide as the screen cut to a generic talk-show set, a duck in a yellow and red version of the original Darkwing suit coming out to clearly forced applause. He was vaguely aware of Launchpad dropping the bag of groceries, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen long enough to acknowledge it, heart pounding in his ears.

“Um, Dad? Pops? Why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?”

“It... it can’t be...” Drake whispered.

“He’s- but he- and we  _ saw-!  _ They, they looked for him for  _ hours,  _ how did he-?”

_ “Thank you, thank you!”  _ Jim greeted, waving at the audience, who seemed to cheer louder out of pure fear.  _ “Wow, what a great audience we have for our very first show! And here I was worried that nobody would remember me!” _

Silence. Jim narrowed his eyes, tapping his foot.

_ “Eh- _ hem.”

There was a sound like something charging up, and the audience burst into cheers again.

_ “That’s more like it! And I want to give a big shout out to all of you watching at home!”  _ Jim smirked.  _ “Of course, it’s not like you had a  _ choice  _ in the matter. Oh, and don’t bother trying to change the channel- we’re live on every single one of ‘em, ah-hah!” _

Forced laughter. 

_ “We’ve got a great show for you tonight, everyone! You see, we’re going to host a little  _ reunion  _ for a little TV show I did back in the nineties called Darkwing Duck!”  _ Jim paused, then narrowed his eyes as he gestured for the camera to zoom in on him, which it did.  _ “And I’m sure a few of you are thinking, ‘Darkwing Duck? Isn’t that the guy who’s been stopping bank robberies?’” _

Drake inhaled sharply.

_ “Well, guess what? That guy? He’s nothing but a  _ fraud!  _ A  _ thief  _ that not only stole my greatest role, but  _ ruined  _ my reputation! He took  _ everything  _ from me!” _

Drake swallowed, gripping at the front of his shirt.

_ “You hear me, kid? You ruined  _ everything!  _ It was supposed to be  _ me  _ making a comeback,  _ me  _ on the big screen,  _ me  _ with my name in lights! But you... you just  _ had  _ to jump on my coattails, didn’t you? You’re nothing but a gloryhound, and once I’m done here? I’m coming for  _ you.” 

“Oh my god,” he heard Launchpad whisper. 

“Dad? Dad, who is this guy?”

“I... Gos, um...”

_ “But that’s for later!”  _ Jim stated cheerfully as the camera backed out.  _ “Right now, we’ve got a show chock-full of great moments for you all to see, with no commercials! So sit tight, cause you don’t wanna miss a thing!” _

Drake swallowed, then clenched his fist.

“I have to go.”

“Drake-!”

“I know, LP, believe me, I  _ know,  _ but I-I can’t just-! He’s got  _ people  _ there that he’s- he’s holding hostage, and I can’t just let him hurt them!” Drake swallowed, turning his gaze to the floor. “It’s... this is  _ my fault,  _ Launchpad. I have to make it right.”

“Drake...” He heard his boyfriend swallow, then felt him put his hand on his shoulder. “Okay. But- but be careful, alright? He... he doesn’t look well.”

Drake nodded, then hesitated, turning his gaze to the kids.

“Okay, um, kids? Can you keep a secret?”

“Is it that you’re Darkwing Duck?” Boyd asked.

“No, it’s- wait,  _ what? Gosalyn!” _

“Hey, don’t look at me! I didn’t tell him!”

“She didn’t! I matched a sample of your voice to that of Darkwing Duck’s!” Boyd explained cheerfully. His smile slowly fell. “Oh. Should... should I not have done that?”

Drake sighed, shaking his head as he walked over to the blue chairs.

“Okay, well, can- can I trust you three to keep this under wraps?”

Lena snorted.

“Dude, I literally have  _ magic powers.  _ This isn’t even like, in the top  _ five  _ weirdest things in my life right now.”

“... fair point. All of you, stay here and lock the door.” He hopped into the blue chair, putting his hand on the bust. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Good luck, Dad!” 

He nodded, then took a deep breath before pulling the bust back.

* * *

Drake muffled a cough as he crawled out of the vent, peering down from the rafters at the stage. 

“Good thing I recognized the soundstage from my acting days,” he murmured, watching as Jim told rather tasteless jokes about one of his ex-wives and wincing before leaping between the rafters until he was above the backstage area where the three actors were tied up. He dropped down, quickly shushing the trio before they could scream.

“Oh, god, are you here to make sure we cooperate?” Dan asked in a hushed voice. 

“Please don’t hurt us! We’ll do the interview, we promise!” Stork all but sobbed.

“No no no! I’m not here to hurt you!” He pulled out his gas gun, turning it to the clippers setting. “I’m here to rescue you! Um, big fan, by the way, I loved watching you guys play the bad guys on the original show when I was a kid!”

“... ye _gods _we’re old,” Michael muttered as Drake cut them free. “Thanks, kid! Nice costume, by the way.”

“Oh, well, thank you!”

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, I think that’s enough about good old Rose for now, but I’ll have more to say about her later, trust me! I think it’s time we welcomed our first guest!”

“Oh, crud.” Drake motioned towards the door. “Go go go!”

For three middle-aged men, they sure did run fast. 

“Please welcome my former castmate, the biggest asshole I know, Michael Bill-  _ hey!” _

Drake gulped when the full force of Jim’s glare was on him, only to blink when he started chuckling.

“Oh, well, now isn’t  _ this  _ a surprise? Folks, you remember that identity thief I told you about at the top of the show, right? Well, guess who’s here! It’s the one and only Darkwing Duck!” He gestured towards the stage. “Why don’t you come on out, kid? Since you  _ clearly  _ want the attention!”

Drake swallowed again, then puffed out his chest, walking onto the stage.

“There he is, folks! Give him a big round of applause, why don’t you!”

To Drake’s surprise, the audience actually seemed  _ happy  _ to see him, though if that was because they liked him or because they thought he’d save them he wasn’t sure.

“Huh. Well. They just  _ love  _ you, don’t they?” Jim grit his teeth. “Isn’t  _ that  _ just...  _ swell?” _

“Ah-heh, er, thanks, folks!” Drake cleared his throat as he turned back to Jim. “Jim, how... I thought you were-?”

“Oh, I’m afraid that I’m not quite  _ that  _ easy to get rid of, Mr. Darkwing. I’ll bet you’re just  _ soooo  _ disappointed, aren’t you?”

“Disappointed? Jim, you were my  _ hero!  _ I did this,” he said, pointing at himself, “because of  _ you!  _ Because I thought you  _ sacrificed  _ yourself to save us! I thought... I thought that this would be what you wanted! I just wanted to help people like you helped me-!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ve  _ heard!”  _ Jim snapped his fingers, and a large screen descended from the ceiling. “I’ve  _ seen  _ that little interview you did  _ plenty of times!” _

He snapped his fingers again, and an image of Drake outside the bank where he’d stopped Admiral Antarctic appeared.

_ “Oh, well, it’s- it’s really just great to be helping people. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always dreamed of being a hero. In fact, I was actually inspired by the old TV show from the nineties- I always idolized the main character and the actor who played him. After he passed, I thought, what would be the best way to honor his memory? And I decided that it would be to help the citizens of Duckburg!” _

Jim cackled lowly as the screen ascended.

“Oh, I just  _ love  _ that part. You know, where Darkwing Duck- the character that  _ I  _ made big- spends the rest of his days in this  _ nowhere  _ city with a bunch of  _ nobodies!” _

Drake swallowed, then took a deep breath and a step forward, holding out his hand to Jim.

“Look, I’m- I’m sorry about what happened to you. I never meant for any of this to happen, but I-I can- let me make it up to you, Jim. Just... let these people go, and if you come with me, I’ll help you-!”

Jim barked out a laugh as he slapped Drake’s hand away, taking a step back and shaking his head.

“Oh, is  _ that  _ what you think I want? Your  _ help?  _ Your  _ pity?  _ No no no no no, kid, I don’t want you to  _ help  _ me.” He smirked, a dark glint in his eyes. “I just want to make you feel as bad as I do.”

With that, Jim lunged at him, and Drake was only barely able to step out of the way in time.

“Whoa! Jim,  _ please,  _ stop! We don’t- we don’t have to fight!”

“No, we don’t!  _ You  _ can just stand there and shut up, and _ I’ll  _ beat the hell out of you!” Jim snapped as he drew his fist back. Drake ducked, then tackled him, pinning him to the ground by his wrists.

“Jim, I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Too bad, cause all I wanna do is  _ rip your head off!”  _

Jim threw him off of him with his feet, launching him into the small interview area. Drake groaned, then shook his head, narrowing his eyes.

“Alright. Looks like we’ll have to do this the  _ hard  _ way,” Drake murmured as he pulled his gas gun out of the holster. He aimed it at Jim, who was playing to the still terrified crowd, turning the setting to ping pong ball before shooting at him and beaning him in the head a few times.

“Ow!” Jim glared at him over his shoulder, then suddenly smirked, turning around and putting his hands behind his back. “Oh, are we using our toys now? Because I’ve got a few new tricks up my sleeve too!”

With that, Jim pulled out what looked to be a pair of  _ very real  _ guns, and Drake was only barely able to get out of the way before he started shooting. He cursed under his breath, diving off the stage and hiding behind the overturned craft services table.

“Aw, come on kid, no fair hiding! Just come on out and face the music. I admit it won’t be as much fun if I just shoot you, but it’ll still make me feel a whole lot better seeing your brains on the-  _ hey!” _

“Sir, I don’t suppose you’ve got a permit for that, do you?”

Drake let out a sigh of relief when he heard Donald’s modulated voice, peering up over the table. Donald was currently taking the pistol apart as he hovered above Jim, crushing the bullets into powder when he got them out, while out of the corner of his eye he could see Gizmoduck getting people out of the audience. 

“Hey, don’t you know it’s rude to break other people’s things?” Jim demanded before smirking again. Before Donald could react, he jumped up, grabbing his belt and tearing it off. Donald squawked, immediately falling to the ground and landing right on his butt. 

“Wh- how... how did you-?!”

“Oh, don’t worry. My little  _ usurper  _ isn’t the  _ only  _ hometown hero I’ve been looking into. You must be the famous  _ Duck Avenger,  _ the one that’s right in the middle of his big comeback!” He held the belt up in the air. “Did you know there’s tons of footage of your old fights on DuckTube? Seeing the way you always protect your belt, it’s not too hard for a guy to figure out just where your powers come from.”

He laughed as Donald tried to get the belt back, eventually rearing back and kicking him clear across the room.

“Oh, and don’t think I’ve forgotten about you over there!” He called, turning towards the exit just as the last person in the audience escaped. “Yes, you, the little plucky upstart known as  _ Gizmoduck!  _ Impressive suit you’ve got there, kid! What’s it made of?”

“Huh? Oh, well, it’s- it’s a lightweight blend of various metals, mostly iron and tin-!”

“Interesting. So, then,” he started, grinning as he snapped his fingers and a giant magnet rose from the floor, “I’m sure you made sure that it wouldn’t be weak to a little force called  _ magnetism,  _ right?”

“... uh-oh.” Gizmoduck yelped as the magnet turned on, flying across the arena and colliding with the magnet, groaning as he slumped against it.

Jim chuckled, shaking his head.

“See, that’s the problem with you egghead types,” he started as he tapped his temple. “You always forget about the  _ simple  _ solution  _ ack!” _

Drake grunted as he jumped Jim from behind, trying to pin his arms behind his back before getting unceremoniously kicked off. Before he could get up, Jim had gotten to his feet, running over and stomping on his back hard.

“Ooh, looks like  _ someone’s  _ not afraid to fight  _ dirty!  _ Maybe you’re more like me than I thought, kid.”

“I’m- I’m nothing-!”

Jim snorted, stomping on his back again.

“Oh,  _ please.  _ What was it that you said? That you were my  _ biggest fan?  _ Face it,  _ twerp,  _ you’re not exactly wearing a white hat either.”

Drake groaned as Jim took a step back, watching as Jim inspected Donald’s belt.

“Hmm... you know, I wonder...”

“Wait, nononono-!” He heard Donald yell as Jim put on the belt. 

Jim jolted, a strange green aura surrounding him before suddenly disappearing. He blinked, looking at his hands before clenching them as he chuckled lowly.

“Oh, well, now, isn’t  _ that  _ just fascinating?” 

Before Drake could react, Jim sped over to him, grabbing him and hurtling him towards the still-stuck Gizmoduck, who yelped as they went tumbling to the floor. Donald came crashing into them a second later, followed by a steel cable that tied them all together.

“Ah, now, look at this. Duckberg’s own protectors, all in one place!” He cackled as he flew over to them, hovering a few feet in the air. “Ain’t this just a fine collection of  _ Justice Ducks?  _ Three superheroes, and you couldn’t even take down one guy with all your powers combined! Of course, that’s to be expected- it’s  _ me  _ we’re talking about here!”

“Who even  _ are  _ you?!” Donald snapped.

“Yeah! You’ve been going on and on about what a big star you are, but I’d never even  _ heard  _ of you before tonight!” Gizmoduck added.

Jim froze, face morphing into an absolutely monstrous glare.

“Who am I?” Steam was practically pouring out of his ears.  _ “Who am I?!  _ How  _ dare  _ you! I am  _ Jim Starling-!  _ No! You know what, no I’m  _ not!  _ Not anymore!”

“Jim?” Drake tried. 

_ “Jim Starling is dead!”  _ He bellowed, a red aura appearing around him. “He died in that explosion, when  _ you  _ were too busy trying to steal his glory to care about that  _ fan!” _

“What? That’s- that’s not what happened at  _ all-!” _

_ “Shut up!  _ It’s all  _ your  _ fault! From now on, the duck you used to call Jim is  _ gone!”  _ He held out his hand, and from seemingly nowhere a chainsaw flew into it. “Call me  _ Negaduck.” _

He cackled as he revved up the chainsaw, and Drake winced, bracing himself for impact. Just as Jim started rushing towards them, though, a strange, pink glow surrounded them, and in the blink of an eye, Jim was gone, replaced by the pale yellow walls of his living room. He yelped as he fell to the carpet, Donald and Gizmoduck doing much the same.

“Oof!” Lena sighed as her eyes went back to normal, swaying a bit. “Okay! Well! That- that was a close one! Really wasn’t sure I was gonna be able to- to get all three of you out.”

“Dad!” Gosalyn cried, barrelling towards him and all but tackling him in a hug. Drake hissed when she hit the spot Jim had repeatedly stomped on.

“E-Easy, sweetie, easy! Just got out of a fight, remember?”

“Don’t care,” Gosalyn replied, voice muffled due to the fact that she had buried her face in Drake’s chest, clinging to him tightly. Drake winced again, then sighed, wrapping his arms around her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Gos. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Gos didn’t respond to that, instead clinging to him tighter.

“Uh, Lena? Are you alright?” Violet asked, sounding concerned.

“Y-Yeah, I’m- I’m super duper!” Lena replied in a shaky voice, looking more than a little green around the gills. “Just, just not used to using up that much power  _ hurk.” _

Drake flinched when she doubled over.

“Bathroom’s down the hall and to the right, kiddo.”

She shook her head, waving him off.

“N-No, I’m fine! Just a little queasy  _ urp.”  _ She groaned, grabbing her stomach. “Nope, not fine, not fine, ‘scuse me!”

She ran down the hall, and Drake heard the door to the hall bathroom slam, the sound of vomiting coming a minute later.

“Aw, jeez, poor kid,” Launchpad commented. 

Drake sighed, then glanced over his shoulder at Donald.

“You okay? You took a beating, anything hurt?”

“Just my ego,” Donald muttered as he sat up, rubbing the side of his head. “Della’s gonna hold this one over me  _ forever.” _

Drake bit back a snicker, then cleared his throat as he turned.

“What about you, Gizmo? You doing okay- uhhh...”

The brown-feathered duck in a button-up jolted upright, glancing around the room with wide eyes before groaning and slapping a hand to his forehead.

“Great, that’s a whole bunch  _ more  _ people who know now...”

“What the-  _ Gizmoduck?” _

“Yeah, that’s me.” He cleared his throat, sticking out his hand. “I’m- I’m Fenton. Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera.”

Drake blinked, then smiled, letting go of Gosalyn to remove his hat and his mask. 

“Drake Mallard,” he replied as he shook Fenton’s hand. Fenton seemed surprised, but smiled back when he let go. “So, uh, what happened to your suit?”

“I’m... not sure. I don’t  _ think  _ I pressed the eject button...”

“Lena was having trouble transporting all three of you due to the added weight of the Gizmoduck suit,” Boyd explained. “I suggested that she focus on the organic being in the suit, which allowed her to teleport you three with less stress.”

Fenton blinked, then tilted his head a bit.

“Huh. You know, you look familiar...”

“Oh, you briefly worked under my creator, Mark Beaks.” Boyd smiled sympathetically. “My condolences.”

“Uh, creator?”

“Boyd is an android,” Drake explained.

“... do... do I want to know why Beaks created a child android?”

“He desired the attention that pictures of families get on social media, but did not want to take the time to actually have a child,” Boyd elaborated. 

“... yeah, that sounds like Beaks.”

Donald cleared his throat.

“So... what do we do now? I mean, Negaduck has my belt, which means he has my powers, and I really don’t think he’s just going to give the Gizmoduck suit back.”

“Hm... Fenton, do you have an older version of the suit somewhere?”

“Sure, we kept an older prototype for comparison purposes. It’s- it’s kind of buggy, though.”

“It’ll have to do. As for you, Don- I mean, Avenger, is there any other way that you could possibly get your powers back?”

Donald winced, hesitating before letting out a sigh.

“Yeah... but I really,  _ really  _ don’t wanna.”

“It doesn’t  _ matter  _ what you want! Negaduck has your belt, which means he has  _ your  _ powers! You saw what he could do without them, imagine what havoc he’ll wreak when he can  _ fly!” _

Donald made an angry noise, then threw his hands up.

“Fine!  _ Fine!  _ But if I’m doing this, you’re coming with me, because I’m not talking to that  _ jerk  _ all by myself!” He got to his feet, pointing at Launchpad. “Okay, you.”

“Yessir, Mr. De- I mean, Mr. Avenger?”

“I’m gonna need you to take all of these kids to the Manor. Call their parents, tell them to head there too. It’s not going to be safe out here with Negaduck on the loose.” He sighed, turning back to Drake and Fenton. “As for us, well...”

He groaned, shaking his head.

“I really can’t believe I’m saying this... the three of us are going to have to head for Ducklair Tower.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's baaaaaaack.
> 
> Welcome to the second multi-chapter fic in Tales from Duckburg! This is probably going to end up being around the same length or slightly longer than Little Girl Blue, because I've got a bunch of backstory to cover for both Jim and the Duck Avenger!
> 
> Which is why Uno/One and Morgana are tagged. All will be revealed in time.
> 
> Also, related to that- I'm pretty sure the belt has nothing to do with Donald's powers in canon (although my knowledge of PKNA is limited to wiki research and searching on Tumblr lmao), but I figured that it would make more sense for him to have a power source independent of Uno/One for... reasons I will reveal next chapter.
> 
> Related to that, should I refer to that character as Uno or One? I've seen English-speaking fans use both names, so I'm not sure.
> 
> Also, if it wasn't obvious, the actors who played Quackerjack, the Liquidator, and Megavolt are named after their voice actors (Michael Bell, Jack Angel, and Dan Castellanetta respectively). This idea was borrowed from a comic by sketchquill on Tumblr! Great idea, you lovely and talented artist!
> 
> Brief wrasslin' glossary- Slapdown is Smackdown, which at the time that this fic is set was airing on Tuesdays, but moved to Fridays on October 4th, 2019. Bee Mode refers to Bebe Belle, this universe's version of Brie Bella, and the American Dragon is this universe's version of Daniel Bryan. The "Yes!" chant is this motion where the crowd shouts "yes" repeatedly while thrusting their arms into the air, pointer fingers extended. Depending on whether he is a heel or a face, Bryan will join in.
> 
> Yes, it is one of the weirdest things ever, but it's also one of the most popular things in wrestling.
> 
> (And for the few wrestling fans reading this, I did briefly consider making Duckverse!Daniel Bryan a goat, but that felt mean)
> 
> That's it for this chapter! The next one will be up on Monday, with the other two going up on Wednesday and Friday. Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Comments are always appreciated!


	2. Gravity

Drake whistled appreciatively as he got out of the car, straining his neck and shading his eyes as he looked up.

“That... is a tall building.”

“I can’t see the top of it through the clouds,” Fenton added. “Er, why are we here, again?”

“Because this is where I first got the belt,” Donald explained before letting out a weary sigh. “Never thought I’d be back here again.”

“Why’d you even come in the first place?”

“Uncle Scrooge bought the building when I was eighteen. Figured he could turn it into a buncha luxury apartments and make a mint.” Donald shrugged. “Until he could get tenants, though, he made me the custodian and caretaker of the building.”

“Wait, he did this when you were eighteen?”

“Yep. Said it would teach me a lesson about responsibility or somethin’.”

Drake blinked, then looked at Fenton, who shrugged in response.

“Er...”

“Hey, I never said it was a particularly  _ good  _ lesson.” He looked back up at the tower, then sighed. “Well, come on. Might as well get this over with.”

With that, Donald started walking towards the building. Drake exchanged another look with Fenton, then followed him in, blinking when he saw the interior of what appeared to be a normal office building, complete with a receptionist in front of the elevator. 

“Oh, hello! Welcome to Ducklair-!” The blond-haired receptionist blinked, then quickly deflated. “Oh. It’s  _ you.” _

“Hello to you too,  _ One,”  _ Donald replied, crossing his arms. “Great cloak, by the way. Never would have guessed what this place really has going on inside.”

She snorted, rolling her eyes.

“Well, no point in keeping up the ruse if you’re here.”

The receptionist snapped her fingers before she and the desk suddenly disappeared, panels in the wall opening up as strange, almost  _ alien-looking  _ machine came out of the openings.

“Whoa! What the-?!”

“No way... I read about the work of Everett Ducklair, but I-I never thought I’d get to see it in person!” Fenton looked like he might cry, instead bouncing up and down slightly. His tail wiggled as he ran over to one of the machines. “I can’t even imagine what this might do-!”

_ “Don’t touch that!” _

“Ack! Y-Yessir, I’ll- huh?” Fenton blinked, looking around in confusion. “Um... who said that?”

_ “I did.” _

Drake frowned, putting his hands on his hips.

“Well, it would be a lot easier if you just came out so we could see you.”

“That’s... easier said than done,” Donald started before clearing his throat. “Drake, Fenton, allow me to introduce you to One, the AI of Ducklair Tower.”

_ “Pleasure to meet you.” _

“Wait, wait, wait. So... you  _ are  _ the tower?”

_ “I generally limit my functioning to my specific floor, but I am able to change and control any one of the 151 floors of Ducklair Tower, yes.” _

“This is the coolest day of my life,” Fenton whispered, eyes wide and starry.

“... you met an actual  _ android  _ like an hour ago,” Drake reminded him.

“I work with Lil Bulb, I’m used to androids! Sentient AI on  _ this  _ scale, though?” Fenton gestured wildly into the air. “This is  _ completely unprecedented!  _ We’re supposed to be  _ years _ away from artificial neural networks that can replicate human brain functions, let alone actual  _ sentience,  _ especially at this level! This is  _ amazing! You’re  _ amazing, One!”

_ “Oh, well, thank you!”  _ One chuckled.  _ “You see, Donald?  _ Some  _ people actually  _ appreciate  _ intelligence!” _

Donald scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Good to know you still have your modesty.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Look, can we come up? We... we need to talk.”

_ “Oh,  _ now  _ we need to talk?” _

“Aaaand here we go.”

_ “What’s that supposed to mean?! Am I not allowed to be upset that you walked out on me?” _

“I  _ told  _ you, I needed a safe place for the boys to live!”

_ “Uh, hello? Super high-tech tower with an all-seeing, all-powerful AI? I don’t see how a  _ boat  _ in the marina is safer!” _

“Because it’s- wait a minute, how did you know where I lived?”

_ “Come  _ on,  _ Donald, hacking into security cameras was an integral part of the second big case we ever worked together! I know that organic beings often experience memory deterioration as they age, but you’re not  _ that  _ old!” _

Donald squawked, then grumbled angrily before shaking his head.

“Oh, whatever! Anyway! You might have been able to take care of  _ outside  _ threats, but this place is stuffed to the gills with dangerous tech! It’s no place for a child!”

_ “Again, all-seeing, all-powerful AI! I could have moved the tech around so that the boys wouldn’t have gotten to it!” _

“Yeah, no, they would have found a way. You don’t know my boys.”

_ “And who’s fault is that?!” _

“I... really feel like we’re intruding on something here,” Fenton murmured, looking as uncomfortable as Drake felt as Donald and One’s argument escalated into a shouting match.

“Yeah... what do you think the odds are we won’t die if Donald doesn’t get his powers back?”

“Well, considering that Negaduck now has his powers and the current Gizmosuit, and given that I’ll be at a disadvantage using the less sophisticated older version, and also the fact that he has a whole lot of weaponry- oh, that was rhetorical, wasn’t it?”

“It was, but now I kinda wanna know the odds.”

“Oh, well, I’d say... maybe a twenty percent chance we’d survive.”

“Oof. And if Donald gets his powers back?”

Fenton shrugged.

“Fifty-fifty.”

Drake sighed.

“Guess we’d better at least give it a shot.” Drake cleared his throat loudly. “Excuse me! Look, clearly you two have some...  _ issues  _ to work out, but right now we’re kinda in a hurry. See, there’s this guy-!”

_ “Yes, Negaduck, I know. You faced off with him a few hours ago and, to put it mildly, got your butts handed to you on a silver platter.” _

“How is  _ that  _ putting it mildly? And how did you know that?!”

_ “What part of all-seeing AI don’t you understand? I monitor all television broadcasts going in and out of Duckburg to check for criminal activity!” _

“... he interrupted an Anxieties rerun, didn’t he?” Donald asked, sounding unimpressed.

_ “Th-that’s irrelevant!” _

“Uh, what’s Anxieties?” Fenton asked.

“You know, that soap opera that was everywhere in the early nineties!” Drake told him. “You never saw it?”

“Considering I was born in 1997? Nope.”

“Oh, you- wait, you’re  _ twenty-one?” _

“Twenty, actually, my birthday’s not til December.”

Drake exchanged a stunned look with Donald, then looked back at Fenton.

“... what?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Drake said, trying not to think about how when he was twenty, the biggest thing  _ he’d  _ accomplished was talking a judge into dismissing underage drinking charges.

“I’m getting  _ old,”  _ Donald muttered before clearing his throat. “Look, One, I know that- that you and I aren’t exactly the best of friends anymore, but I... I need your help. Is there any way you could make me a new gravity manipulation belt?”

One snorted.

_ “Please, as if I didn’t start working on a new one the second I saw Negaduck steal yours.” _

“Wh- really?”

_ “Of course! Just because I’m still mad at you doesn’t mean I want you to die!” _

Donald blinked, then smiled a little.

“Well, thanks, One. Just let us onto your floor and we’ll-!”

_ “No need, I’ll just come to you.” _

Donald blinked again.

“Wait, what?” He asked just as the elevator lit up, the doors sliding open. Out stepped a tall duck with long, dark hair with green highlights and an...  _ interesting  _ beard, clad in a green pin-striped suit of some sort.

“Ta-da!” The duck-  _ One  _ said with a flourish. 

“What in the-  _ One?!” _

“The one and only, pun intended!”

Donald stared at him, slack-jawed, then groaned, running a hand over his face.

“I worried this day might come.” He took a deep breath. “One. Just because you don’t have a body doesn’t mean you can steal other people’s.”

“Wh-! I didn’t  _ steal  _ this body, you buffoon! I  _ built  _ it!” One’s eyes glowed green for a second. “It’s an android body that I can transfer my consciousness into at will!”

“You- wait, wait, wait. You  _ built  _ yourself a body?”

“Of course! What, did you think I just spent the past decade sitting around watching Anxieties reruns?”

“But- but why?”

One rolled his eyes.

“Is it really inconceivable that I might want to experience the world on two legs? Being a giant green head in an orb isn’t exactly the most  _ mobile  _ of forms!” 

“Is this conversation weird to you too?” Drake whispered to Fenton. Fenton simply shrugged in response.

“Alright, well, whatever, you have a body now, great! Now, where’s the belt?”

“You’re as patient as ever, I see,” One replied before pulling a small, silver square out of his pocket. “Here you are.”

“... One. That’s not a belt. That’s just a piece of metal.”

One rolled his eyes, then pressed his thumb down on the square, which unfolded into a silver belt buckle in his hand, a perfect copy of the Duck Avenger suit popping out of it.

“... oh.”

“Indeed. Much more convenient than the older model, wouldn’t you say? Now you don’t have to go out of your way to retrieve your costume from... wherever it is you’ve been storing it recently.”

Donald gave him a look, then cleared his throat.

“Well, uh, thanks- thanks for your help, One, but we really do need to get going-!”

One pressed the button again, and the costume folded back up, disappearing into the square as he pulled it out of Donald’s reach.

“Uh-uh, no way. You’re not getting this  _ that  _ easily, old cape. Not until it’s been calibrated to your brainwaves.”

_ “What?!  _ One,  _ come on,  _ we don’t have time for this!”

One narrowed his eyes.

“Donald, do you perhaps remember what happened when you tried to use the old belt the first time? You know, when I hadn’t properly calibrated it yet?”

Donald flinched, then chuckled sheepishly, tugging at his collar.

“I, uh... almost fell to my death?”

“Correction: you almost fell to your death  _ three times.  _ I’m not about to let you put yourself into a combat heavy scenario without properly adjusted equipment, D.A.”

Donald opened his mouth to argue, only to freeze when his phone started ringing. He quickly pulled it out, grimacing when he saw who was calling.

“It’s Uncle Scrooge,” he muttered by way of explanation. “I’d better take this, he’s likely to just keep calling til I pick up... hello-? Ack! Scrooge,  _ seriously,  _ don’t yell into the phone!”

Donald paused, furrowing his brow.

“Since when do  _ you  _ know how to text?” He paused again, then rolled his eyes. “You  _ are  _ over a century old, it’s not unreasonable for me to assume that-! Ugh, whatever! Look, I didn’t  _ get  _ any texts from you!”

Donald paused again, then narrowed his eyes.

“Did you actually press the send button?” A pause, then a snort from Donald. “Yeah, I thought so. Whatever, what do you want?”

Another pause. Donald arched an eyebrow.

“Well, fine, we’ll be back at the manor as soon as we can, but I’m a little busy right now-!”

_ “NOW!”  _ Drake heard Scrooge shout, wincing in sympathy for Donald’s poor ears.

“Okay, okay! We’ll be there in like, twenty minutes!” Donald grumbled as he hung up. “Well, looks like I won’t be able to do those tests of yours, One. At least, not right now. I’ll come back later-!”

“Or I could just come with you.”

“To do the-!” Donald blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I’m not exactly chained to the tower anymore, Donald. This body allows me to go anywhere I please.” One smirked. “Including McDuck Manor.”

Donald squawked, then growled under his breath before throwing his hands up.

“Fine.  _ Fine!  _ At least I’ll be able to get that stupid belt from you that much faster!”

Drake could’ve sworn that something like hurt flashed in One’s eyes, but the android said nothing, instead clearing his throat as he slipped the square back into his pocket.

“Well? Lead the way, old cape.”

Donald grumbled as he turned, One following him out of the building.

“Something tells me this is going to be a  _ long  _ car ride,” Fenton murmured.

“Yeah? What was your  _ first  _ guess?” Drake sighed, motioning towards the door. “Come on, we’re gonna have to keep those two from killing each other if we wanna make it to the manor in one piece...”

* * *

Somehow, Drake and Fenton were able to occupy Donald and One enough that to avoid any major arguments, though Drake could have sworn that Donald actually looked  _ jealous  _ when Fenton and One started talking about the latest developments in cold fusion technology. Still, they managed to make it to the manor in one piece, although Drake barely waited for the car to stop moving before getting out of it. 

“Remind me never to accept a ride where both of those two are involved ever again,” he muttered, shaking his head as he made his way up the steps.

“Hey, guys! So, Donny, did you manage to get your-? Oh, uh, hi there! Er... who’s your friend?”

_ “Della?”  _ One exclaimed, eyes as wide as dinner plates as he walked into the manor. 

Della blinked before her own eyes went wide.

“Wait...  _ One?  _ Oh my god!” She ran over to him, all but tackling him in a hug. Of course, since One was kind of made of metal rather than organic matter, he kept his footing, laughing as he hugged her back.

“You’re alive!” He cried when they broke apart.

“Yeah! You have a  _ body!” _

“I do! Built it myself!”

“That’s awesome!” Della looked over at Donald. “Donnie, did you know about this?”

“Not until about half an hour ago,” he replied. “Now, where’s Uncle Scrooge?” 

“He’s in his office on the phone with someone,” Della replied. “I... wouldn’t interrupt him if I were you.”

“Wha- why did he call us back if he was just gonna get on a long phone call?”

Della shrugged.

“Well, considering that there’s a nut running around and you don’t have your powers, I’m thinking he just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“... so why didn’t he just say  _ that?” _

Della gave him a look.

“Have you  _ met  _ Uncle Scrooge?”

Donald blinked, then shrugged.

“Fair point.” He sighed, turning towards One and putting his hands on his hips. “Alright, One, come on. You want to test the new belt? Let’s test it out.”

“Now, now, what’s the rush, old cape? I’d love to catch up with Della here-!”

“Do it on your own time, then. The sooner we get this thing calibrated, the sooner we can all go back to our lives.”

Again, One looked hurt as Donald walked away, but didn’t say anything, instead just following him towards the backyard, Della following with a worried look on her face.

“Should... should we go too?”

Drake shrugged, heading for the stairs. 

“You can if you want, but I think I’ve had enough of the Duck Avenger’s personal drama for now. I’m going to go find my family and see what they’re up to  _ ack!” _

Drake stumbled back when something hit him directly in the forehead, blinking when he pulled it off to find that it was a foam dart.

“What in the world...?”

“Whoops! Sorry, Dad!” Gosalyn called from the top of the stairs. She ducked, shooting off a few rounds from her foam dart gun. “Pointed the wrong way!”

“I would assume so. What’s up?”

“We’re in the middle of a war! Pops is already out, and I’m kinda on my own here!” She grinned at him. “Could really use some back-up!”

Drake blinked, then grinned.

“Well, consider the cavalry arrived, then!” He called as he ran up the stairs. “Good luck, Fenton! You’re gonna need it...”

* * *

“Now, just hold still...”

Donald rolled his eyes as the costume basically  _ grew  _ over his clothes, pulling his mask out from under his hat and putting it on. 

“Perfect! Now, you should feel it connect in three... two... one...”

Donald jolted as the belt connected to his brain, gritting his teeth until the shock subsided and giving One a look.

“You couldn’t have made it hurt a little  _ less  _ this time?”

“Not in the short time I had,” One replied before stepping back. “Okay, old cape, let’s get to work. You remember how to fly?”

“I was flying less than a few hours ago, I think I know how it works.”

“Great, great. Float a few inches off the ground.”

“You got it,” Donald replied, narrowing his eyes as he focused on the feeling of going up, up, up-!  _ “Wak!” _

Donald squawked as he shot up at least ten feet in the air, flailing as he tried to stop his ascent before halting suddenly in midair. 

“Whoa! You okay, Mr. Duck?” Fenton called from down below.

_ “Peachy!”  _ He shouted back. “One, I think you need to turn the sensitivity on this thing down!”

“Seems like it! Come back down!”

Donald grumbled, then tried to focus on coming back down, realizing too late that he forgot to think about going down  _ slowly  _ before rapidly dropping. He screamed, trying to think of slowing down, but unfortunately the belt reacted to his panic, and he ended up swerving around in the air and barely dodging several trees before finally barrelling straight into a bush. 

“Donald!” He heard Della call. “Donald, are you okay?!”

He groaned, putting a hand on his head as he stood up in the bush.

“M’fine,” he muttered before brushing some leaves off his shoulder.

“Hmm... I thought that the higher sensitivity would make it easier for Donald to control his flight pattern,” One mused.

“Maybe you should make sure it monitors his heart rate?” Fenton suggested. 

“Hm, that would take care of the panic issue, but that would also limit his ability to fly when stressed or doing a lot of physical activities like heavy combat...”

Donald blinked, bill parting slightly as he watched Fenton and One discuss possible fixes to the flying problem. He couldn’t help but remember how he and One had had similar conversations about the first belt, laughing and brainstorming over episodes of Anxieties. 

His heart ached at the memories, and he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

“You know,” Della started, snapping Donald out of his thoughts, “you  _ could  _ just tell him that you missed him.”

“Wh- I didn’t  _ miss  _ him! I’ve been perfectly fine  _ without  _ that pompous jerk, thanks!”

“Uh-huh, sure. That’s why you keep looking at Fenton like you want to throttle him.”

Donald glared at his sister, grumbling under his breath about her being too nosy for her own good as he stormed back over to One and Fenton.

“Okay, fine, so flight needs work. That leaves strength and speed.”

“Right, right. Hopefully we won’t run into the same issues with those powers that we found with flight.”

Perhaps predictably, they  _ did  _ find those same problems. Donald initially thought that it would be better if his superstrength was amplified to the point that he could lift his houseboat with one hand, only to rethink it when Fenton pointed out that it could have deadly consequences in fights. 

As for superspeed, well...

“Ah, you’re back,” Della commented as he arrived back in the backyard, quickly putting out the fire behind him with an extinguisher. “What took you so long?”

“Ended up running into Panchito in Mexico,” he explained. “Talked to him for a little while before he had to get into the ring for a show. Side note, how mad do you think Uncle Scrooge will be when he gets a bill from Quetzal Underground regarding a duck-shaped hole in the wall?”

“Again, have you  _ met  _ Uncle Scrooge?”

Donald sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, that’s not gonna be fun... hey, where are One and Fenton?”

“Oh, they’re brainstorming at the patio table.”

Sure enough, the two had basically claimed the table as a sort of work desk, papers scattered all over the place. One had taken off his jacket, rolling up his sleeves and tying back his hair, and for a moment Donald found himself distracted by the sight for... whatever reason until Della cleared her throat.

“You okay, Donnie? Looking a little red in the face there.”

Donald squawked, face heating up before clearing his throat.

“I’m- I’m fine.” He cleared his throat again. “Ahem. I’m back.”

“Oh!” One looked up at him, smiling, and for Pete’s sake why did  _ that  _ make his heart skip a beat, this was  _ One  _ for crying out loud! “Welcome back, old cape. So, I’m guessing speed needs adjustment as well?”

“Only if your goal  _ wasn’t  _ for me to end up in another country every time I try to use it.” He peered over at their work. “What’s all this?”

“Oh, One and I are discussing the possibility of using the technology in your belt to improve the function of motor neuroprosthetics!” Fenton explained cheerfully. “I think that the functions used could help make prosthetics that much more realistic!”

“Of course, giving the current sensitivity issues, anyone who used the program as is would likely end up making the user do the can-can the minute they got nervous.”

“Well, no program’s perfect in its first iteration. I couldn’t figure out why my first neural network kept identifying piles of rocks as people for the longest time!”

One laughed, and a pit of jealousy dropped into Donald’s stomach. He grit his teeth, pressing on the buckle to make the costume peel off and go back into the container before the buckle folded back up into a square. 

“Well, if you two don’t mind taking a break from your little  _ side project, _ I think that you should probably get to fixing the issues with my belt. Y’know, so I don’t  _ die  _ trying to take down a crazed supervillain?”

One blinked as Donald tossed the square at him, frowning as he caught it.

“Well, I mean, solving the issues here would make it a lot easier to fix the issues with the prostheses-!”

“Great, whatever,” Donald muttered as he tucked his mask under his hat. “Have fun with that.”

“Wh-? Where are you going?” Fenton asked as Donald started walking towards the houseboat.

“To take a nap!” He snapped. “Since you two  _ clearly _ have this under control!”

“Well, don’t- don’t you want to stick around?” One asked, sounding oddly distressed. “I mean, it’s  _ your  _ belt, you surely have suggestions for things you’d like!”

“Yeah,  _ fix it!  _ I don’t need anything fancy, just make it work!”

“But-!”

“But what?!” Donald shouted, turning around and glaring at One. “Is your  _ new  _ best friend not enough for you either?!”

One’s eyes widened, bill parting in shock for a second before his eyes narrowed.

“That’s  _ rich,  _ considering that  _ you’re  _ the one who  _ left!” _

Donald flinched, then grit his teeth, shoulders shaking as he clenched his fists.

“What’s it matter to  _ you?!  _ You’re just a  _ computer!  _ You don’t have  _ real feelings!” _

Fenton gasped, covering his mouth.

“Donald!” Della shouted.

“How... how could you say that?” One asked, sounding almost  _ heartbroken.  _ “I... do you really hate me that much?”

Donald flinched, swallowing as his heart sank into his stomach. He tried to think of an answer, tried to hold onto his anger, but it quickly drained away, because...

Well, truth be told?

He didn’t hate One. Not even a little. 

He just  _ missed  _ him.

And part of him just wanted to admit that, to say that he’d missed him like crazy for the past eleven years, had driven by Ducklair Tower more times than he wanted to admit and thought about going in, that he wanted to- to be friends again, to be... to be...

Donald swallowed, turning around and sprinting back to the houseboat, slamming the door behind him. 

For a while, he just curled up on his ratty old couch, waiting for Della to come in and make him talk about his feelings again. 

Which was rich, all things considered, but she’d still be right. 

A lot more time passed than he’d expected. He was starting to think about getting up and going back out himself when the door finally opened, and he looked away as he sat up.

“Well? You gonna let me have it or what?”

“It’s your belt. Wouldn’t be much point in me keeping it from you.”

Donald blinked, eyebrows rising as he looked back at One, who had an impassive look on his face as he stood in the doorway.

“You’re done already?”

“It wasn’t that hard,” One replied. “Just had to reduce the sensitivity of the controls. Should be fine, but I’d like to test it first.”

Donald sighed, getting off his couch and walking over to One.

“Well, might as well get this over with... uh, One? Kinda need to get through the door here.”

One didn’t move, instead folding his arms across his chest.

“You didn’t answer me.”

Donald blinked.

“Answer what?”

For a moment, One’s eyes glowed green.

“Do you really hate me that much?”

Donald flinched, swallowing and looking away before letting out a sigh.

“Of  _ course  _ I don’t hate you, One. I... I never did.”

“Then why?” One demanded. “Why would you- why would you  _ say  _ something like that?”

“Because I-!” Donald grit his teeth, then groaned as he walked back into his living room. “Because I was  _ angry,  _ and- and I know that doesn’t excuse it, and I’m sorry.”

“... that’s not it.”

Donald blinked, looking back at One.

“Huh?”

“Donald, I’ve  _ seen  _ you angry. Heck, I’ve seen you get angry at  _ me!  _ Even at your maddest, you’d never say something like that.” One narrowed his eyes. “So since it couldn’t be that, either there’s some other reason, or you really  _ do  _ hate me.”

“I don’t hate you!”

“Then  _ why?” _

“Because-! Because-!” Donald growled in frustration, then threw his hands in the air. “Because I was  _ jealous,  _ okay?!”

That seem to actually shock One, his jaw going slack.

“You... you were  _ jealous?” _

Donald huffed, face going hot as he folded his arms across his chest.

“Yeah, well... I’m- I’m not proud of it, but... yeah. I was.”

“What on- just what on  _ Earth  _ were you jealous of?”

Donald snorted, giving One a look.

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask your new best friend?”

“Wh- you’re jealous of  _ Fenton?” _

“I said I wasn’t  _ proud  _ of it!”

“You- you-!” One groaned, covering his face with his hand. “I can’t  _ believe  _ you.”

“Oh, what, is it so ridiculous that seeing you being all buddy-buddy with someone else might be hard for me?”

_ “Yes,  _ considering that you and I haven’t spoken in  _ over a decade!” _

“Well it’s not like you ever reached out to me!”

“Neither did you!”

“I was  _ busy!  _ And if you think I’m being  _ so  _ ridiculous, then why are you being so  _ insistent  _ on sticking around?!”

“Did it ever occur to you that I might have  _ missed  _ you?!”

“I missed you too, you _ big pompous jerk!” _

One froze, and Donald felt his whole face go hot, stammering a bit before finally sighing and looking away.

“I... I missed you, okay? I missed seeing you everyday, and watching stupid soaps together, and working on cases, I-I even missed _arguing _with you over nothing. I... I thought about going back into the tower hundreds of times, just so I could see you again.”

“... why... why didn’t you?”

“... because I didn’t think you wanted to see me,” he admitted quietly.

One didn’t reply to that, but before Donald could speak again, he heard a sniff. He finally turned to look at One, eyes going wide when he saw the tears rolling down the android’s cheeks.

“Oh, crud, don’t- don’t  _ cry!”  _ Donald pleaded as he ran over to One. “Come on, please don’t- wait, you- you can cry?”

One nodded, sniffling as he wiped at his eyes. 

“I-I made sure this body was as realistic as possible, including- including physical reactions to intense, intense emotions.”

Donald couldn’t help but snicker at that.

“D-Don’t laugh! You know how, how hard it is to- to regulate tear production when you don’t have glands?”

Donald laughed again, covering his mouth with his hands.

“I-I’m sorry, it’s- it’s not funny, it’s just- god, that’s just so  _ you,  _ One. Always so- so detail-oriented.”

“S-Saved, saved your butt more than a few times, didn’t it?”

Donald laughed again, then cleared his throat.

“I... I really am sorry, One.”

“I-I’m- I’m sorry too,” One replied, rubbing at his eyes. He glanced away, and Donald could have sworn his cheeks were a little pink. “I... kind of have a confession to make.”

Donald blinked, arching an eyebrow.

“You do?”

“Yes, well... do you want to know the real reason I built this body?”

Donald frowned.

“Uh... sure? So you didn’t just want to experience the world from a more limited point of view?”

One chuckled, shaking his head.

“Well, that  _ was  _ part of it, but... I, um. I actually built it because... because I wanted to see you again.”

Donald blinked.

“You... you did?”

“Yes, and since you didn’t seem to want to come to me, I figured... figured I’d go to you.” Now Donald was  _ sure  _ that his cheeks were pink. “I actually, um... kind of saw you at the marina. You and the boys- I think they were probably around six at the time?”

“You- wait, you’ve had this body for  _ five years?” _

“Well, I-I’ve made some, some  _ improvements  _ since then, but... yes.”

“But- but why? If you were really that close, why didn’t- why didn’t you try to talk to me?”

One winced, rubbing his upper arm.

“You just... you and the boys, you seemed so... so  _ happy.  _ You were a family, and I... I thought I’d just be intruding.” He looked away. “You didn’t need me. You’d moved on.”

Donald’s heart ached, and he sighed.

“Man, I’ve been so  _ stupid  _ about all of this.”

“I think- I think we both have.”

“Mostly me. I’m sorry, One, I... look, the truth is, I knew that living in the tower would be okay. After Ducklair bought it back, there wouldn’t have been anything Uncle Scrooge could’ve done to kick us out, and you would have been able to keep the kids from getting hurt, I just...”

“... you just what?”

“... I loved being the Duck Avenger, you know? It- it was one of the best things in my life, one of the best things I’ve  _ done  _ with my life. But- but when the kids came along, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to raise them if I was putting my body and life on the line like that, and I... I was afraid that if I stayed in the tower, I’d be constantly reminded of what I’d lost, and I... I didn’t want the kids to think I regretted taking them in.”

“Oh, Donald... I’m sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t think about that.”

Donald snorted.

“Yeah, well, not like I was really the best at talking about my feelings back then.” He looked up at One, smiling nervously. “Can... can we start over? Be friends again?”

One smiled, then surprised Donald by pulling him into a hug. 

“I’d like that.”

For some reason, Donald had been expecting One’s body to be cold, but it was actually pretty warm, the humming of his internal workings almost like a heartbeat. 

It was weird, hugging One after all this time, but... it was nice. 

Although the fact that One’s beard thing kept almost poking him in the eye was more than a little annoying.

“Hey, uh, One?”

“Yeah?”

“Now that we’re friends again, I feel like I should tell you- your beard is really,  _ really  _ stupid.”

One barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he pulled back.

“What? Come on, it makes me look cool!”

“Nope, you look like the bad guy from an old sci-fi.”

One laughed, then smirked.

“Well, you may be my friend, old cape, but you have absolutely no say over what I do with my body.”

“Hah! Fair enough-!”

“Hey, Uncle Donald, Mom wants us to tell you that dinner’s almost- whoa! Who the heck are  _ you?” _

One and Donald both jumped, and Donald saw One’s eyes flash green out of the corner of his eye as he turned to look at the boys. Donald’s nephews gasped in shock.

“It’s a supernatural threat!” Huey yelled.

“Get away from our Uncle Donald, you weirdo!” Louie yelled before all three boys lunged at One, tackling him to the ground. “Quick, Uncle Donald, go get Lena so she can exorcise him!”

“That’s not what she does!” Donald replied before quickly prying his nephews off One. “And he’s not a supernatural threat, he’s my friend!”

“Wh- why are you friends with a supernatural being?”

“I’m not a supernatural being!” One snapped as he sat up. His eyes glowed again. “I’m an  _ android.  _ Big difference!”

“Okay, well, why are you friends with an android?!”

Donald winced, glancing away.

“Uhhhh...”

“Yeah, Donald,” he heard Della call from the doorway. “Why  _ are  _ you friends with an android?”

Donald shot a glare at her, then sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Okay, well... guess I really can’t keep putting it off. Boys, there’s something I need to tell you...”

* * *

Drake jumped when heard a door slam, turning towards the archway in the kitchen.

“Okay, hands up!” Dewey started, sounding upset. “How many of you knew that Uncle Donald was the Duck Avenger before we did?!”

Drake blinked, then silently put his hand up, as did everyone else in the room.

“Oh, come  _ on!” _

“Wait, how did  _ you _ guys know?!” Louie demanded, pointing at Lena, Violet, and Boyd.

“You’re kidding, right?” Lena asked. “Dude, he wears literally the  _ exact  _ same hat.”

“Wh- you see?!” Huey shouted, poking Louie in the chest. “I  _ told  _ you it wasn’t just a coincidence!”

Drake snickered, then paused when the doorbell rang.

“I thought your parents were all stuck at lockdowns at work,” Drake said to Lena, Violet, and Boyd.

“They are,” Violet replied, frowning. “So that’s probably not them at the door...”

“No, that would be an old friend of mine,” Scrooge explained as he walked past the dining room. “Had to cash in a lot of favors to get her to agree to come here.”

“Uncle Scrooge!” Huey shouted as he chased after Scrooge. “Uncle Scrooge, did you know that Uncle Donald was the Duck Avenger?”

“Course I did! I’ve known since he started!”

“Wait, you have?” Donald asked.

“Lad, ya started when you were sixteen, did you really think I didn’t notice ya sneaking out of the house at all hours of the night?”

Donald squawked, then glared at One when he started laughing.

“Ah, well, that didn’t take ye all that long, did it?”

“No, because I had to use more immediate means to even get here. Apparently, all flights to Duckburg have been cancelled until further notice.”

Drake’s eyes went wide at the sound of a familiar voice, and he shared a look with a similarly stunned Launchpad before they both got out of their chairs and ran into the foyer, stopping dead in their tracks when they saw who was at the door.

Next to Scrooge was a tall, slender female duck with dark brown feathers and silver-streaked black hair in a tall, loose bun. She was a little older than Drake remembered, but there was absolutely no doubt in his mind who she was.

_ “Luna Knightfeather?!”  _ He exclaimed before he could stop himself. “Mr. McDuck, you know  _ the  _ Luna Knightfeather?!”

“Ah, so you’ve heard of her, then!”

“Of course I have! She played Lyla Fey on Darkwing Duck! I had the biggest crush on her when I was a-!” Drake snapped his beak shut, chuckling sheepishly as his cheeks burned. “Ah-heh. S... Sorry.”

To his relief, Ms. Knightfeather simply chuckled, shaking her head.

“My, I didn’t think anyone still remembered that I was on that show.”

“Well, yeah, winning  _ six Perrys  _ kind of does that.” Drake blinked, furrowing his brow. “Um. Not that- that I’m not absolutely  _ thrilled  _ to meet you, ma’am, but... why are you here? I mean, I know that you were, er... um...”

“... married to the man currently terrorizing the city?” She finished, folding her arms across her chest.

Drake winced.

“Er, well, yeah. S-Sorry, I, um, I heard that was... not pretty.”

“No, it wasn’t, but I’m not here as his ex-wife.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m here as the mother of the child he didn’t see fit to tell he didn’t  _ die  _ six months ago.”

Drake winced again, feeling more than a little like he had when Birdie had gotten angry at his parents on his behalf.

“Ah-hah, well, that’s... that’s fine, but he’s not... he’s not well. I don’t think he’s going to listen to you- not willingly, at least.”

“Oh, I know.” Ms. Knightfeather smirked. “That’s why I plan to  _ make  _ him listen.”

Drake blinked. 

“Huh?”

“Ah, allow me to explain,” Scrooge started. “You see, Mr. Mallard, you- and most of the world- know her as the actress Luna Knightfeather, legend of the stage and screen. However, I happen to know her by another name.”

“My real name, as a matter of fact,” Ms. Knightfeather continued before snapping her fingers. Her clothes began to glow, the red empire top growing over her body until the skirt hit the floor, a high collar popping up. “Specifically, as Morgana Macawber, the world’s foremost authority on practical magic.”

Morgana smiled at them.

“A pleasure to meet you, gentlemen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this one's a little late, guys! I'd say that I'll be earlier on Wednesday, but... well, I'm afraid to say that I'm a little swamped with grad school work this week, so I won't be able to post on Wednesday, and I probably won't make Friday either. Sorry about that! I'm disappointed about the delay as well.
> 
> Anyway, I actually found a site to read the first five issues of IDW's translation of PKNA between the last chapter and now, so writing One wasn't as difficult as I feared! He... is a VERY sassy AI and I love him.
> 
> And yes, android!One looks a lot like Odin, though I will note that he is NOT Odin- more like a prototype for that particular form.
> 
> (also I might ship him and Donald a lil bit)
> 
> And yay, Morgana's here! For reference, the Perrys are the Tonys- both are derived from the name of the American Theatre Wing's co-founder, Antoinette "Tony" Perry. The fact that Morgana has won six of them is a reference to Audra McDonald, whom I couldn't help but hear in my head when I was writing Morgana's lines lmao
> 
> Only one wrestling thing this week: Quetzal Underground is a reference to Lucha Underground, a Mexican wrestling promotion focusing heavily on the lucha libre style of professional wrestling. As mentioned back in "Little Girl Blue," Panchito is currently signed there as El Gallo Loco.
> 
> That's it for this chapter, and for this week! Again, sorry about the delay. It... will probably happen again, grad school involves a lot of work. 
> 
> Comments are always appreciated!


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